I just finished my night-time cigarette, the one I’d have with a friend if anyone was around. But there’s you and that’s nice. You’re channelling me now. You probably hear my voice in your head and you have an idea about how I might be feeling. Either you’re my friend sitting and listening, or you are me and we’re sharing a brain.
But I was thinking about how much I love this city, and how I am this city. It’s taken me ages to get here and I will never be able to call another place home. I was watching the boats move around on the bay and thinking, damn, my life is perfect, right now in this very moment.
I was also thinking about how boring a blog about my paintings would actually be. For instance, the one I finished today, 3 days on this fucking thing and it sucks. It looks all faded and burnt up. I’m not self-loathing. I can paint but everything can’t be a masterpiece. And they definitely aren’t all worth writing about.
I want a blog that says my brain. And here it is. I took a job at a cafe today. I want to make money so I can go to Kentucky for Christmas. I want to see my sister’s new apartment and hug my grandparents. I miss them. And I miss my friends.
I’m pretty sure I will always be pretty alone, happy, but without my own family, without kids. Sometimes I think I want kids but then I remember how changeable I am and that I probably only want them because other people have them. I am better alone, as a painter, unbound so I’m not jealous. This is how I really think.
Goodnight dear reader. Make today exceptional. There aren’t many left.